


Forgiving or forgetting

by Blueishfood



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:07:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24387205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueishfood/pseuds/Blueishfood
Summary: "If he felt her staring, he made no indication of it.She let her eyes glide over the edge of his jaw, the slope of his neck and the muscles forming by his shoulder. Bellamy was practically begging to be drawn, but unfortunately, they were short on art supplies on earth.Short on time as well.After a few drawn out seconds, he stirred, finally turning to look at her. Clarke didn’t bother looking away.“Is there forgiveness for people like us, Clarke?”"
Relationships: Bellamy Blake & Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21
Collections: Bellarke in The 100 world





	Forgiving or forgetting

**Author's Note:**

> Words: 1,4 K
> 
> A/N: So this is a little bellarke drabble I did. The story is set as they were trying to get Luna, after the conversation on the beach if the sea clan had taken a little longer to get to them. The story is about grief, guilt and companionship. It's a little angsty. Enjoy!

The night was clear, dark but not gloomy, cold but not freezing. Clarke closed her eyes where she reclined in the damp grass. Her body felt sore after the long day of travel, and even though she now should be relaxing, working up her strength towards the next day, her body couldn’t seem to let go off the stress.

She inhaled slowly, then held her breath and tried to listen to the breathing of her friends. The relationships had been tense for days, but especially between Bellamy and Octavia. Clarke felt a little awkward, standing in the middle of it all, but mostly she felt sorry for them.

Bellamy had been misled, and the results were fare more terrible than any of them could have imagined. Clarke knew Octavia blamed him. Lincoln was still a burning wound in their midst, a black hole, drawing light out of every being. The space left behind felt cold and empty.

Clarke turned to her side, slipping her hands under her head, and looked at Bellamy. He was sleeping next to her, Octavia on the other side of the fire and Jasper between them. Bellamy didn’t look calm like he usually did when he was sleeping, the lines in his face were strung tight, on guard. That was what made Clarke understand he was awake. Though if he felt her staring, he made no indication of it.

She let her eyes glide over the edge of his jaw, the slope of his neck and the muscles forming by his shoulder. Bellamy was practically begging to be drawn, but unfortunately, they were short on art supplies on earth.

Short on time as well.

After a few drawn out seconds, he stirred, finally turning to look at her. Clarke didn’t bother looking away.

“Is there forgiveness for people like us, Clarke?” She knew he was trying to whisper but his voice rasped anyways, and he sounded wounded, a little lost.

Clarke swallowed.

She knew what she usually would have answered. _We do what we have to do_ , or something along those lines.

But this was Bellamy.

Bellamy who had pulled the lever with her because she needed him, who had killed an army for his people, who had shot the chancellor to save his baby sister. Bellamy who had forgiven her when she deserved nothing of the sort. She could hide nothing from that Bellamy, even though his eyes welled with unshed tears.

So instead she whispered, “I don’t know” and rubbed her itchy nose with the rough leather of her sleeve.

“I feel empty”, he said, not quite looking at her, but not looking away either. “I feel empty and angry as fuck. But nobody deserves it.” He had gathered leaves in a tight fist, now they fluttered to the ground and his hand fell limply by his side.

“I’m losing her, Clarke.” He sounded pained. Like someone was dragging the words out of him, forcing him to admit it. Clarke sighed. She knew he had been thinking it, and the tension was obvious between them, but losing her?

“She’s just hurting, Bellamy.” He shivered a little, maybe from the cold.

“It’s my fault.”

“You didn’t kill Lincoln. His blood is not on your hands.”

“Some of it is.” Clarke didn’t know a good answer to that, so instead she pulled up memories she desperately tried to forget.

“Sometimes, when I can’t sleep at night, I see their faces.” She drew a heavy breath and heard Bellamy shuffle closer to her in the grass.

“You didn’t stay there for long, but I can still see some of the people I met and talked to in the mountain.” She laughed without humour, lifting a braid to examine it instead of dwelling on the tear making its way down the side of her face. It rested wetly in her hair and she ached to wipe it away but would rather ignore that it was there.

“Yesterday I remembered this woman serving food”, she smiled a little, didn’t look over to see Bellamy’s reaction, “I don’t know her name, but she had blue eyes and long straight brown hair.” Clarke shook her head, wanting to forget what she thought would be burned into her eyelids forever.

She blinked and saw the lever again. An impossible choice that seemed a little too easy to make.

She knew she would do it all again. For her people.

“I remember thinking she looked like the German astronaut in the picture hanging by alpha station, section two.” She paused before explaining; “Right before the hallway down towards mechanics.” A long pause followed.

“We do what we have to do”, she said clearly, flinching when Jasper shifted in his sleep. She would really like to avoid a shouting match between them right now. “but in a world like this”, she continued, “what we have to do could be far from what is right.” Bellamy stayed silent for a while. She saw him pluck at a straw of grass in the corner of her eye before he uttered;

“What is the right thing now?”

Clarke knew the answer to that question.

“What we’re doing is right. I know it is.”

“We can hope.” The answer wasn’t pessimistic. Not demanding or downgrading. Just the truth, the facts, and oh so very Bellamy.

“We’ll make sure of it, it’s not like we’ll stop fighting before life is worth living” Clarke tried to make it sound positive. It was the truth after all.

“How could we? Fighting is all we know”, his voice was on the verge of breaking. She let the words sink into her bones while Bellamy turned away, looked up to the sky. “Not just here, but on the Ark as well.” He said as Clarke examined the stars, wondering if she missed it a bit, then remembered that she didn’t. “The more we’re on earth, the more I see what they were doing, why they were doing it” Bellamy trailed off, she didn’t understand where he was going.

“Who?” Clarke asked, glancing at him. He had a sombre look on his face, his eyes were muted.

“The council”, he paused, “Jaha.” He let out a huffing laughter, as Clarke lifted an eyebrow, then asked; “Could you imagine the chaos it would have caused if everyone knew of the radiation?”

“We’re not like them”, Clarke said. It was a statement, something she forced herself to believe. Because if she were like them, the world would never be better.

Bellamy didn’t answer, she knew he disagreed.

“I could have saved her, you know?” his voice was timid a little while later, like he was afraid of telling someone else than himself. Clarke knew the feeling.

“If I hadn’t trusted Ecco, I could have…” his words trailed off, lost to the wind in a whisper that Clarke didn’t catch. He did not have to tell her who he was talking about, the word love burned through his words, his voice was soaked in it.

“If I had left when Octavia wanted to, Lexa wouldn’t have died.”

His eyes snapped to her, startled, lost in his own pain without realizing she was hurting too.

What she had said about Lexa was a truth she had avoided long enough. She had stayed just a little longer, hoping beyond hope that she could get the best of both worlds. It was of course a lie, as it always had been.

She heard the unspoken words between Bellamy’s lines. They both blamed themselves. It hurt more than it helped.

“You protect, Bellamy. It’s a huge part of you” he turned to her, didn’t quite look like he believed her words. “I didn’t know her, but I’m sure it was part of the reason why she loved you.” Clarke said, a small smile playing at her lips even though she knew she had no right to speak of the dead she had abandoned, “It’s the reason why I learned to.”

The guilt wasn’t gone when they stopped talking. It never would be, Clarke reasoned, as she settled on the moist ground. Maybe that was a good thing. If the guilt left her, like Allie wanted it to, there would be no pain, but neither would the dead be remembered. Lexa would not be honoured, Maya would not be mourned, and Wells would not be missed.

She hated the mountain, she hated Cage, and yet it didn’t seem right to forget it all. Honouring the dead by her guilt was something Clarke had become good at.

 _What was it Wallace said_? _He bore the pain, so they didn’t have to…_ She blinked, trying to chase the drowsiness away, loathing the motto that had become her reality, while Bellamy’s body heat touched her back in a silent reminder that she wasn’t alone.

 _Their reality_ , she reminded herself, as the moon dimmed and disappeared.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I just needed to remind you that this way of dealing with grief, as Clarke does, is not healthy. Guilt is good in some cases, but so is searching for forgiveness. Talk to people who have learned and lost, grieve together. This is what I wanted to share with this story, that even if the guilt doesn't go away, but you're not alone, and you can share with people what is on your heart.
> 
> You don't need be guilty for things you can't change, but remember it and keep it close to your heart. 
> 
> Honestly, I believe the best way to deal with grief is to talk about it. If you have no one to talk to, say a little prayer, if you don't believe in God, you don't have to, but it feels good to just give it to the wind as well. And if you don't want to do that, you can always send me a message on tumblr (same name as this user). 
> 
> Don't let it destroy you, share it, let others bear the burden with you.


End file.
